It has been seventeen human years since Nika was reborn. Seventeen fleeting, mortal years, which was just a blink in the divine realm of time, and yet Aramai could remember the moment clearly. The tether between the soul and flesh that had been stitched anew without his knowledge, without his consent. And that should have been impossible. Nika shouldn't have been born in the first place. He shouldn't have to be trapped in a mortal body for the humans who don't even value him. He should have been doing his duties diligently and yet every time he fled like a coward. Away from his grasp and into the cycle of mortal curse, choosing that cursed life over his divine one.
It was almost insulting, how easily Nika was always ready to abandon them all. And Aramai, the Warden of Stone and Silence, hated it.
Nika had died just a few moments ago, at least by human reckoning. The thread of Nika's mortal life had frayed, snapped and he was expected to return. And Aramai was ready the moment he caught wind of it, to handle Nika's soul with care and give him one more chance to show that he was not abandoning them but it didn't happen.
Aramai had waited. He had stood atop the endless mountains of souls and stone that marked his domain, listening for the soft shuffle of Nika's soul. But there were no signs, no flicker, no laughter. Nothing but silence. It was already too long for Nika's soul to have crossed the threshold, to descend into Aramai's realm where he would have been given the chance to choose or endure.
But the gates of the Underworld never saw Nika's soul. All it saw were some mortals, not the divine. Because the line to Nika's soul had been severed.
It hadn't taken the third Biolenta God long to understand. He had scoured the threads, traced the divine echoes and found the cause in just a few milliseconds. The unmistakable signature of Artebel. Her power lingering like a sap on his own.
'Golden.'
That wasn't hers. Not her own power. Not her own will. But his and his alone.
Their father, the Almighty, had made them all with purpose. Each Biolenta Gods–siblings–carved from thoughts, gifted dominion over a part of the world, nature itself. But each one of them had also been gifted with a spark of shared dominion, a silver of power that could be tapped across divine bloodlines. But none of them ever did because to reach into another's dominion with purpose was an offense.
And yet, Artebel–the wild sister of his, the untamed soul of the forests, who was never meant to touch death, who was chaos and life herself, with nature's fangs and mercy, who never gave second chances–had done just that. She had broken her own vow and, worse, used his power, the power of death and rebirth, to bring Nika back.
Aramai had felt it. The moment his power was being used. The moment Artebel's foresty green eyes had turned golden. The moment the cycle of death and rebirth had been trespassed, pulling Nika back from where he was meant to be locked.
It had been Artebel's hand but his authority. Her voice, but his sentence reversed. She had broken the law of death, of divine punishment, and she had done it all deliberately.
Because Nika, his dearest youngest brother, should have been returned to him. He should have died. His thread should have been snapped, away from those humans for whom he was giving himself away. But instead, Nika lived. Lived again among those very humans who would always be the cause of his death.
Artebel had not simply interfered. She had chosen Nika, above all the laws and silent vows, above destiny and order, above Aramai himself. It was already worse that Nika would always use their powers unknowingly but now even Artebel was joining him, but knowingly.
And because of that, Aramai couldn't reach his foolish, dumb little brother. The realm of death didn't have any hold on Nika. The gates would not open for Nika unless he died again and next time, even Artebel's interference would not be tolerated by him because the balance had been broken once.
Aramai stepped down from his throne, with his jaw clenched as the silence around him deepened.
.
The winds had been too strong, even for the New World. The storms had been shrieking for murder. The waves had been restless. Almost too much.
Everything felt not just strong, not just wild, but too wrong. The nature itself felt like twisting in unnatural spirals, hurling fury and madness without direction, thrumming with something otherworldly. It wasn't a storm that just formed out of nowhere in the New World. No, it felt called.
Standing on the deck of the Red Force, Shanks narrowed his eyes towards the horizon where the blackish red clouds were devouring the bloody sea with lightning blooming unnaturally golden in the distance, almost tethering to black.
"Luffy.." Benn murmured beside him, already knowing where Shanks's thoughts were. "You can feel it too, huh?"
Shanks didn't respond immediately. He only watched the clouds roll like beasts, with his grip on the hilt of Gryphon tightening. "..Almost all storms this bad are tied to him these days," Shanks muttered after a while, his voice low but firm. "That sunshine of ours.. It's never quiet when he's not alright."
Yasopp, reading the paper under the dripping edge of the mast, clicked his tongue and held it up. "You're gonna want to see this. G-8 is obliterated."
"Obliterated? That base?" Lucky Roux echoed, his usual grin nowhere in sight.
"Yep! Ridiculed. Looks almost abandoned like a ghostly base now. And guess who they're blaming?" Yasopp grinned, turning the page to reveal the bold headline: CHAOS AT G-8: THE 3C'S STRIKE AGAIN!
There was no photo of the 3C's, just a speculation and untrustworthy witness accounts of shadowy figures moving like ghosts, with the base left to rot like it had been hit by disasters upon disasters. But anyone with a brain and a bit of sea sense could feel who'd been there.
Shanks stared at the headline, his eyes narrowing at the familiar name and mind swirling with questions.
"I thought only that blonde brat was active… but G8? That's not exactly a target," Benn Beckman stated as he lowered the cigarette from his lips.
Yasopp exhaled slowly, letting the paper flutter in the wind. "But there was something that incurred their mischief."
"But what?" Lucky Roux frowned, brows furrowed. "Was it sunshine? That Warlord invitation sure had to piss him off."
"Maybe," Benn muttered. "But I didn't expect Luffy to do this.. alone, at least. He might have roped his crew into it… but something still doesn't make sense."
"Maybe he was trying to follow Ace? Anchor does that," Yasopp provided, remembering that good ol' laugh he had. "Ace literally made the World Government regret sending him an invitation to join the Warlords."
"No, something had to happen on top of this," Shanks said quietly.
The wind howled through the sails again, louder this time, as if agreeing to his words. He could feel that the original storm had receded–the one casted due to rage and something else–but the remnants were still there, gnashing its teeth like a beast, ready to tear anything apart.
Shanks glanced downwards, to find the sea churning violently, swallowing chunks of foam, before looking up toward the black red clouds again. "This is a storm made from fury."
Lucky Roux looked back at him. "So then, was it all three of them? Ace and Sabo too?"
"Ace was seen heading towards the G-8 base in a hurry by our sources… so he was likely there," Benn replied after taking a puff from his almost soggy cigarette. "But why the urgency? Is… something wrong?"
Shanks didn't answer. He had already asked this question to himself several times but couldn't find anything to satisfy his anxiety. But he refused to give up. He needed to know if the boys were okay; if Luffy was okay. So, he reached again into his pocket and pulled out his den den mushi, clicked it on and waited after dialling the number.
But it was the same again. Luffy didn't pick up.
Shanks tried another two. But neither did Ace nor Sabo answer once again.
"None of them are picking up," Shanks cursed, his voice tense beneath the calm mask of his. "Something has happened. Something bad enough to drag, most probably, all three of them to a small base like G-8," he exhaled through his nose, pinching the bridge of it. "And they're not answering me, which means…" Shanks refused to finish the statement, or to even think about it.
None of the commanders gathered on the deck answered, all of them feeling their stomachs churn at the implications.
"You three better be okay.." Shanks muttered while looking towards the red line separating him and the brats. "Because if you're not–" he stopped, shook his head, then growled. "Next time I see the idiots, I'm stealing their vivre cards myself. To hell with all those complaints and excuses."
Yasopp blinked. "...Is this what parenting feels like..?"
"Probably worse," Lucky Roux muttered.
.
The data wasn't making any sense, no matter how many times he recalculated it. But by all logic of science and laws of nature, it should have made sense. After all, numbers always made sense, especially in the case of tides, wind pressure, sea current velocity, wave height, which were all crunched and converted into graphs and neat little lines across his specialized weather monitor.
Vegapunk stood alone in his lab, his eyes locked on the central monitor where the simulation replayed once again. The sea storm that had torn through the region surrounding the G-8 Marine base. Violent, erratic and almost mythical in its magnitude. It was by all scientific metrics, the most destructive marine phenomenon to be ever recorded in over eight hundred years. Second only to that storm that brought silence, whose only mention was in classified documents or poneglyphs.
That storm had wiped out history. And this one should have wiped out G-8. And yet, it hadn't.
The G-8 base still stood. Cracked, damaged and ghostly. But intact enough for the infamous 3C's to break into, vandalize and leave chaos behind. And the worst part was, not even the marines were awake enough to witness the chaos that unfolded in their own base. Not even they witnessed the storm that was unleashed upon them, which should have either submerged them with the base or reduced them to corpses buried under rubble.
Yet, the G-8 had survived.
"No storm of that size would spare a structure that fragile," Vegapunk muttered under his breath, as he watched the simulation unfold again. "Unless it wasn't controlled… trying not to destroy the base completely."
The sea had raged, yes. The storms had gone wild, asking for blood. The skies had gone bloody, demanding murder. But it had not all been mindlessly. There had been a rhythm to it, controlled by strings, controlled by something, as if the storm had known what to crush and what to spare.
Vegapunk's gaze flicked to another part of the monitor system. A side panel which was now displaying a digital archive of bounty posters, timestamped photographs, incident logs, and intercepted radio signals. All of them related to the crew that had come to be known and feared as the 3C's.
The interface had auto organized the posters by date of release. It was a clear timeline of escalation, from low risk anomalies to global threats. And that only for a crew having three people. Three men. Three names. Three nightmares for the World Government.
And yet.. something stood out.
He tapped on the earliest posters, zooming in. The first thing he noticed was their height. The one known as 'Red Maniac' Cyra was strikingly short and lean, almost deceptively so. At first glance, the guy barely looked like a threat. And even now, despite the explosive bounty attached to his name, Cyra remained slight in frame with narrow shoulders, and thin limbs. He was chaos incarnate in silhouette and yet small. Not stunted, yet deliberate. Like his body had resisted the natural pull of time, aging in defiance of the laws that shaped mortals.
Vegapunk's frown deepened, as he observed that others–'Orange Wrath' Cole and 'Blue Sly' Cyane–were different. Their bodies had changed. Broadened, hardened and grown taller. And that was the usual telltale signs of adolescence warping into adulthood. The line of the jaw, the only visible part apart from their mouth. The weight of their stance. The confidence behind every movement recorded in surveillance footage.
Vegapunk rewound through those handful clips over and over again, noticing how Cole moved like a firestorm with fists, how Cyane moved like a shadow with a twisted grin and Cyra danced effortlessly, unnaturally, almost as if the gravity around him was almost non-existent.
"They weren't stunted. They were children." Vegapunk acknowledged, letting the truth settle like a dead weight in the air. And wasn't that the most unnerving thing of all? That children, mere children, had done all of this. And they weren't slowing down at all.
Despite their age, they had quickly climbed into the ranks of the world's most dangerous 'pirates'. Each with a bounty of over a billion berries on their head. Vegapunk didn't care about bounties though, he never had. What concerned him more was the pattern.
The 3C's didn't chase treasure. They were toppling kingdoms, though the recent was something else entirely, or claim territory, or aim for control. Their targets were always precise. Always valuable. Always secret. From even scientific research facilities to data vaults buried beneath Marine outposts, they stole only information–files, classified logs, forbidden texts–in disguise of bringing havoc.
And that was not the work of pirates. No, this was the work of revolutionaries.
Vegapunk paced slowly, hands behind his back as he spoke aloud to the room filled only with silent machinery.
"The World Government thinks they're pirates because that's easier to control. Easier to explain to the public. But if three children turned men have spent years hunting down classified intel, breaching facilities, and avoiding the Cipher Pol or even admirals, then they're not only chasing chaos simply," he stopped in front of a frozen image of the storm over G-8, the final puzzle in his question. "They're chasing the truth, hidden by the World Government. But what did G-8 have?"
As per as Vegapunk knew, none of the documents in G-8 were classified, nothing was important in that base. So, why did the 3C's chose that base to wreak havoc and bring storm in? Why chase a truth that didn't have any clue attached to the G-8?
But somewhere in all of this was a name, hidden meticulously, yet there.
Halad. The Lord of Skies and Tempest. The one with control over the storms and skies.
A name scrubbed from history. A name he had only found in the most forbidden of texts—in the poneglyphs. Or the kind stored in basements below Level 6 of Impel Down or passed away orally by tribes the World Government had long tried to extinguish. According to the fragmented records which he had found after much hard work, Halad's power didn't manifest like a Devil Fruit. He was born with it. And it resonated with the sea itself. Leading people to call him god.
Vegapunk had never believed in gods. Science was his religion. But when the sea moved like that storm had moved, like it was reciprocating, like it was too raging and wanting to tear down anything in its path, he couldn't ignore the possibility.
"One of them," he whispered. "One of the 3C's carried Halad's will."
He wanted to study it, desperately. He wanted to analyze every part of that storm. He wanted to know more about Halad. He wanted to delve into his mystery and the connection of the 3C's with him. But he couldn't. Not right now. Because that would require funding, resources and time.
All of which were currently funneled elsewhere to a certain someone, named Jinan Carver.
Vegapunk's expression twisted ever so slightly, just enough for the monitor to pick up his facial change and adjust the lighting accordingly.
Jinan Carver, one of the most renowned scientists in an era that had seen names like Caesar Clown, Vinsmoke Judge, and even himself.
But unlike them, Carver had no signature, no theme, no fingerprint. His work spanned everything and nothing. And most recently, weapons design for the P.P.P. He didn't specialise in a field but instead dipped his hands into every one of them, effortlessly.
Vegapunk didn't want to think about him right now. Hence, his eyes returned to the image of the 3C's. They weren't anomalies anymore, not even only a global level threat. They were something far more, something the World Government was not ready to acknowledge.
Because if the power of the Storm God, Halad, receded in one of the 3C's, then the world's balance was already shifting again, in the hands of people who were chasing truth.
.
The sea was silent. It wasn't trashing too wildly. It wasn't like the chaotic waters of the Grand Line. It wasn't like the mother being playful with her son. But rather she was a mother who was worried for her son's well being, who was sitting just on the figurehead of his ship laughing and listening to the stories brought by the winds, playing with his crew.
The sea wanted her child in her arms. She wanted to check for herself once again if Nika was doing good. She wanted to have him for herself until Nika was completely fine. But she couldn't. She had already kept him in her seas, in her far embrace for a day and knew that her son was getting restless. That he needed land to play and laugh and explore.
Hence, keeping her heart at a distance, she pulled back the curtain of the mist to unveil the Long Ring Long Island.
"Land ahead!" Usopp shouted from the crow's nest, squinting hard even through his binoculars like he didn't believe what he was seeing. "Or.. land strip? Is it even land?"
"It's huge.. No, long. Like really, really long," Chopper stated, amazed as he leaned over the railing.
Indeed, the Long Ring Long Island lived up to its absurd name. The island was stretched out like someone had taken the edges of the land and pulled it from both ends. And as far as the eye could see, it was like a canvas painted in endless soft greens and speckled with long, swaying trees that look like they had been pulled upwards by something stronger.
Luffy was already leaning far over the bow, his eyes sparkling in excitement. "Shishishi! I bet there's so much fun stuff on that island!" he said, practically vibrating as his straw hat sat tilted back, catching the light like a halo.
"You say that about every island," Zoro commented, his voice calm and amused, yet his eyes noting every moment of Luffy, making sure that the idiot doesn't fall over.
"But this one feels fun!" Luffy turned with a grin, his red eyes wide and shiny with unadulterated excitement. "And look at that! It's all grass! So much grass! I wanna roll in it!"
"There are no mountains," Robin noted, as a soft smile played on her lips as she stepped up beside Nami. "How unusual."
"Flat or not, if it's land, it must have some food," Sanji lit a cigarette as his gaze flicked sideways to his hyperactive captain. "Oi, Luffy, don't even think about running away all alone–"
But it was too late.
After all, Luffy didn't wait. He never waited when there was an island to explore.
With a loud, carefree whoop, Luffy leapt off the Going Merry, his legs barely steady on the railing before he launched himself toward the shore, laughing wildly and freely. His descent wasn't too graceful, with his legs slightly wobbling when he landed and knees buckling for just a second. But he bounced back up to his feet, laughing.
"LUFFY!" Chopper cried out, rushing to the railing. His hooves trembled slightly, his ears flattening with worry. "He's not fully healed yet."
While Zoro was already vaulting over the railing. "Damn idiot," he muttered, but there was no true anger in his voice. He had known this was coming since the moment Usopp announced about the land. He had known it, that Luffy would vault himself off the ship in excitement, yet his heart and mind wasn't ready to leave Luffy unattended yet.
"We just got him back, and he's already trying to kill himself again?" Sanji muttered, flicking ash off the side of the ship before jumping down after them.
"L-Let's go," Usopp voiced, leaping down the ship using the normal way with Chopper, Nami and Robin. Even though he was afraid of what the island might hold, what dreaded enemy might appear, or what monsters might lurk in the island, he refused to cave into fear anymore.
The crew slowly but surely caught up to Luffy, who was already halfway into a sprint across the green plains, his arms thrown back in excitement.
"Guys! Look!" Luffy shouted, pointing widely ahead.
At first, there was nothing, before a rabbit hopped past them. Or rather, a thing that looked like a rabbit but with a really long body and even longer legs. Its ears weren't just tall, they were towering. The thing looked like someone had grabbed it by the top of his head and pulled it.
"..What the hell is that?" Usopp questioned, stepping back.
Another creature was soon to emerge, and this one was a bear, with its body stretched upwards like a giraffe.
"Is that a.. human?" Chopper questioned with a sweatdrop at the white bear which simply passed before them.
"No, that's a bear. A human can't be that furry," Sanji answered, looking around at the other handful of animals which were lurking nearby.
"They're all tall," Nami observed too, with eyes wide in awe. "It's like someone grabbed them and yanked them skyward."
Robin nodded. "Perhaps it's a climate effect. Or maybe evolution works differently here."
"Or maybe it's cursed," Usopp muttered under his breath, but he refused to be a coward and run towards the ship or even hide behind Luffy or Zoro or Sanji. He hadn't been able to do anything, he wasn't stronger to do anything when Luffy–
"Hey," Luffy called out, cheerful yet sudden. He was stretching his arms and legs absurdly high like the island's animals in mimicry. "Shishishi! Look, I am one of them now! Tall and stretchy!" he grinned, bending his body into exaggerated rubbery poses.
"Luffy, don't–!" Sanji shouted, jogging forward. "Stop messing around! You're not fully healed!"
Chopper squeaked, panic rising in his chest. "Luffy, you're not supposed to use your powers so much yet! What if something happens?!"
Zoro watched quietly, his brows furrowing. His eyes followed every wobble, every flinch, everytime Luffy's leg bent a little too much or his shoulder slumped just a little too low. He didn't say a word, even though it was scaring him, but he kept walking behind Luffy, just in an arm's distance, ready to catch him if he fell.
"I'm fine!" Luffy called out cheerfully to all the worries of the crew. But the next second, he toppled backward dramatically in Zoro's steadying hands, then bounced back upright, still grinning like the world didn't weigh a thing. "I'm fine! You guys worry too much! I've never felt better!"
That was a lie. It didn't even reach his eyes.
"Just don't overdo it," Sanji muttered, watching as the animals didn't mind Luffy at all, and instead gathered near him. He wondered if being a god made him recognizable to all living things, even when the mortal shell of his was barely holding it all together.
Robin, who was observing Luffy and the animals, tilted her head slightly. "Looks like the animals know what he is innately."
"I think so too.." Chopper responded, having felt that same feeling when he had first felt Luffy.
The crew kept wandering deeper into the endless plains, their footsteps leaving soft indentations in the grass, while the landscape remained the same–green, vast and peaceful with some tall trees scattered here and there.
"This island is so.. Empty," Nami muttered. "There are no houses."
"Then where do those animals live?" Chopper questioned, still craning his neck to watch a particularly wobbly giraffe stork hybrid.
"There!" Luffy shouted suddenly, pointing toward a structure in the distance. "I see something! A house! Let's race there!!" And without waiting for a reply, again, he took off running.
"Oi! Damn it, Luffy!" Sanji groaned, sprinting after him. "You idiot! Didn't I just say to not overdo things?"
"Tch," Zoro smirked, as he followed too, not at full speed, but enough to keep pace, with his hand still resting casually on his swords.
Behind them, Chopper and Usopp tried to keep up but started wheezing.
"Why… is he so fast… when he's not even completely well?" Usopp gasped.
"His legs look like jelly!" Chopper whined, just a little ahead of Usopp. "He's gonna fall any second!" he said, even though he knew that Zoro and Sanji would help him up or catch him before his face hit the ground and he was sure that Luffy knew that.
Meanwhile, Nami and Robin strolled behind at their pace, keeping an eye out for their captain.
When Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji finally arrived at the modest wooden cottage nestled in a slight dip in the grassland, they found Luffy already circling a horse. Except for the fact that it wasn't a normal horse.
It was… elegant. Too elegant. Its legs were long and arched like stilts, and its mane flowed like mist. The creature bowed its long neck to Luffy, who giggled like a child and petted its fur gently.
"Woooah, you're so cool! Can I ride you, Sherry?" Luffy excitedly chirped.
Sherry neighed once, approvingly. Its body didn't stiffen at his touch. In fact, it leaned into him like it recognized something divine.
The rest of the crew caught up seconds later.
Chopper immediately gasped in awe, eyes sparkling. "Ohhh wow! Can I pet it? Um, hello? What's your name?"
The horse nickered, shaking its mane.
Luffy pointed. "She says her name's Sherry!"
"...You can talk to horses now?" Usopp asked, blinking.
"I always could!" Luffy laughed again, scratching Sherry's ears as the horse leaned into him.
Meanwhile, Zoro stepped past the animal and looked toward the cottage. "House is empty," he announced after a glance through the window.
"Someone lives here, though," Usopp said thoughtfully, pointing at the saddle and the neat feed bucket. "There's signs of life."
Luffy stopped scratching Sherry and looked up suddenly, before his red eyes lit in the sunlight to almost golden–making it look as if the sun itself was residing in his eyes–and sparkled.
"There's someone!" he pointed towards two tall bamboo shoots reaching towards the sky. "He's up there. I can feel him."
Zoro followed his gaze, his fingers twitched and before anyone could blink, he drew one blade in a smooth, casual motion. With a flash of steel and a clean swipe, he sliced the bamboo split in half, leading something to fall down with a loud yelp.
It was an old man who rolled onto the grass with a grunt, his robes flailing and a conch shell hat flopping off his head. He lay there for a moment before sitting up, dazed.
"..is that a genie that appears when you break the bamboo?" Luffy questioned, curiously.
"A genie? Is that even real?" Zoro questioned back.
"Yeah! Maybe?" Luffy chirped, not even sure himself. "It's the thing that appears after you break the bamboo stick!"
"Who even told you about this?" Zoro sweatdropped.
"Dad read to me at night sometimes!" Luffy grinned, almost proudly, his eyes twinkling at the memory.
"Dragon did?" Zoro blinked, having not taken the man to be that caring.
Before Luffy could respond, a groan from the grass dragged their attention back to the old man, who was still untangling his limbs and dusting off his oversized conch shell hat. He squinted at the two who casually brought him back to the earth and were now arguing about bedtime stories.
"What in the blue hell's are you two mumbling about?" the man croaked, adjusting his hat with both hands. "Did you just call me a genie?!"
The rest of the crew fell into a moment of silence, their eyes narrowing at the bizarrely cheerful man who just dropped out of the clouds.
While Luffy, now squatting next to the man, tilted his head. "I thought you were one."
The old man blinked at him, like he wasn't sure if he should be amused or tell a lie to keep the childish fantasy of the kid before him. His mouth opened, but before he could speak again, the rest of the crew stepped forward, cautious and curious.
"Who exactly are you?" Sanji asked, his eyes narrowing.
The man looked up at them and suddenly broke into a toothy grin, his eyes crinkling. "Long time no see! You lot doing alright?"
"..Wait, do we know him?" Usopp stage whispered to the group.
The crew all turned to look at each other.
"Not ringing any bells," Chopper added, shaking his head with wide eyes.
"Never seen him in my life," Robin said smoothly with her arms folded.
"Same here," Nami said, just as confused.
"Nope," Zoro said with a deadpan voice.
"Definitely not," Luffy agreed.
The old man blinked. "Ahh, makes sense! No wonder I haven't seen you before."
"..That's the opposite of what you just said," Usopp muttered, his eyes twitching. "Who even are you?"
"Ahh, right, right, sorry!" the man chuckled, then bowed his head slightly. "The name's Tonjit! And thank you kindly for getting me down from that stilt."
Sanji raised an eyebrow. "You were on stilts?"
"Indeed!" Tonjit said, striking a proud pose. "Been up there for ten whole years."
"…Ten years?!" Chopper squeaked, nearly jumping out of his hooves. "That's so unhealthy! Did you even come down to eat?!"
"I had cheese!" Tonjit said cheerfully.
"That… does not answer the question," Nami deadpanned.
"You were stuck there for ten years?" Usopp asked incredulously. "Why didn't you just come down yourself?!"
Tonjit sighed deeply. "Oh, I wanted to. But the bamboo was too tall and the ground was so far away… so I just stayed up there. You get used to it. It's quite peaceful!"
"Sounds more like a prison than peace," Sanji muttered.
Zoro leaned on one hip, one hand still casually on his sword hilt, watching the old man with narrowed eyes. "You're telling us you willingly stayed up there for ten years?"
"Oh, I didn't plan to, but I got attached. It became a lifestyle, y'know?" Tonjit smiled with a surprising amount of pride. "Plus, the view is fantastic! Clouds below your feet, birds as neighbors! What more could you want?"
"Freedom?" Robin offered.
"Groundedness?" Sanji said flatly.
"A bed?" Nami added with a grimace.
"Snacks!" Luffy raised his hand like a schoolkid. "Clouds taste weird."
"Wait, you ate clouds?" Usopp blinked.
"Only the puffy ones."
"What's the deal with this island?" Robin questioned curiously, pointing towards the tall animals.
"The thing about this island," he said, arms spread wide, "is that it's a place of freedom. The animals stretch tall because they can. The grass grows wild because it wants to. Whoever lives here starts feeling it in their bones."
Robin tilted her head, intrigued. "Fascinating… a naturally occurring environmental anomaly that influences growth?"
"Or a curse," Usopp muttered.
Tonjit clapped his hands once. "Come, come! You've helped an old man back to Earth. At least let me offer you something in return! I've got cheese inside!"
The crew followed with mixed expressions, the Straw Hats filing into the small wooden cottage behind Tonjit. The place was rustic, with wooden walls, tall windows, a collection of strange sea shells strung across the ceiling like wind chimes, and a suspiciously large cheese wheel sitting atop a rickety table like a shrine.
Tonjit clapped his hands together. "It's aged to perfection! Ten-year-old cheese, handcrafted during the first week I climbed my stilts!"
Luffy's eyes sparkled. "Wooow! Ten-year cheese?! I wanna try it–!"
WHACK!
Sanji's hand shot out like lightning and smacked Luffy's reaching hand away before it could even graze the moldy cheese.
"NO!" Sanji barked. "Don't you even dare!"
Zoro stepped forward, hand resting on a blade, his face twisted in horror. "You want to feed us ten-year-old cheese?!"
Tonjit blinked. "It's perfectly aged!"
"It's perfectly lethal," Sanji snapped.
"Hey now," the old man laughed good-naturedly. "You kids don't know good cheese when you see it!"
"We also don't want to die," Sanji snapped again.
Tonjit huffed, clearly offended, and took a slice of cheese for himself, popping it into his mouth like candy. His face didn't change. "Mmm. Still good."
Luffy leaned into Zoro's ear. "What if he is a genie and that cheese is magic?"
Zoro gave him the flattest look humanly possible. "Then let him fly us off this stupid island."